


Synopsis: Duende

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Meta, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-31
Updated: 2003-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 06:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Synopsis: Duende

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Duende

**DUENDE**

What is 'duende?' I had not the foggiest! However, I did find an excellent definition from a web site called 'Sal's Flamenco Soapbox.' The addy is http://herso.freeservers.com/flamenco.html. Sal has compiled-wish I had more time to research this-a massive amount of information about flamenco history, forms, explanations, etc. A novice like me found it readable and fun, so here is a plug for your enjoyment. 

His definition: 

' **The magic elf**   
Variously defined as ghost, specter or goblin, the word 'Duende' could also be interpreted as the power to attract through personal magnetism and charm. In flamenco, this word is used to describe the trance like fixation, or haunting feeling one may experience while enjoying a flamenco performance. Duende is an inner spirit, which is released as a result of a performer's intense emotional involvement with the music, song and dance.' 

Of flamenco, he says: 

'Flamenco is an individualistic, yet structured folk art from **Andaluc'a** , which is often improvised and spontaneous. The song, dance and guitar are blended together by the passionate rhythms of southern Spain, which is flamenco's geographical birthplace. Gypsies say 'it's in the blood', but Spain's famous poet and writer Fredrico Garcia **Lorca** , called flamenco one of the most gigantic inventions of the Spanish people. The tragic lyrics and tones of flamenco clearly reflect the sufferings of the gypsy people. It is thought that the gypsies who ended up in Andaluc'a travelled from India and Pakistan acquiring the name ' **gitano** ' from Egiptano, the old Spanish word for Egyptian. Apart from the Indian and Jewish influences, the Arabs made an immense contribution to the moulding of the form and content of the flamenco song of today, which is not surprising since they ruled Spain for seven centuries. Yet flamenco _in its present form_ is only some two hundred years old.' 

Back to Highlander...Emit speaking 

Duende explodes with tragedy and passion, just as the dance form it highlights. Super swordfight-between MacLeod and Consone in the magic circle, scrumptious beefcake-for the ladies, the steamroom scene, and-of course-Adrian Paul's superb flamenco artistry. Anthony DeLongis (Consone), and Carmen DuSautoy (Anna Hidalgo), are phenomenal. Bravo for casting! 

Quickie rundown.   
One hundred fifty years ago MacLeod was defeated by Consone. He was not only humiliated in battle but was forced to watch as Theresa-his love-agreed to marry Consone-whom she hated-to save MacLeod's life. Consone, consumed by jealousy, later killed Theresa. 

Now Mac meets Consone again. He hasn't changed. His pathological jealousy almost killed Mac's friend, Anna. Now he is out to kill her daughter as well. After one hundred and fifty years, MacLeod hopes he's good enough to beat Consone this time. 

_New Characters:_

**OTAVIO CONSONE** \- Immortal, master of the 'mysterious circle' combat technique, jealous and vengeful, considers himself an aristocrat compared to the 'barbarian MacLeod'. 

**THERESA DEL GLORIA** \- mortal, 19th century beautiful Spanish noblewoman, loves and is loved by MacLeod, coveted by Consone. 

**DON DIEGO DEL GLORIA** \- Theresa's father. 

**THE DUENNA (TIALITA)** \- Theresa's governess/chaperone, the affectionate name 'Tialita' is similar to 'Auntie'. 

**ANNA HIDALGO** \- Mac's friend, in her youth an expert flamenco dancer who was desired by Consone. He killed her lover, Rafael. Years later, mysterious hit-and-run ended her career but she relives it through her daughter's dancing. 

**RAFAEL** \- Anna's lover and dance partner, father of Luisa. 

**LUISA HIDALGO** \- Daughter of Anna and Rafael, Consone considers her living proof of Anna's betrayal and will exploit her to torment Anna 

* * *

Madrid, Spain, 1971 

Silhouetted, they glide-   
United...apart.   
Flamenco artistes-   
At the height of their art.   
At one with the music-   
That throbs, unrelenting,   
Rafael moves with Anna-   
Their passion augmenting. 

Faster the tempo!   
Their feet matching time-   
Onward they push-   
Far beyond the sublime...   
'Duende!' the shout-   
  
Bursts from Consone-   
To their mastery-   
He affirms testimony. 

As their 'baile grande'-   
Is abruptly completed,   
The small audience-   
By Consone is greeted-   
With a sudden surprise,   
As his face beams with pride-   
He announces that Anna-   
Will soon be his bride. 

But the lady demurs.   
'I cannot agree,   
I'm engaged to Rafael-   
His child's within me.'   
'PUTA!' He spits,   
Striking her to the floor.   
Rage builds into hatred-   
As he shouts again, 'WHORE!' 

Rafael hurtles forward-   
His chest meets the knife-   
That Consone thrusts upward-   
Ending his life.   
Then Consone pulls Anna-   
Erect by her hair-   
Holds the knife's bloody point-   
In her horrified stare. 

'Remember...' he orders,   
'For as long as you live,   
This cut is only-   
The first, I will give.'   
She flashes her hand-   
Up to his face,   
Where her fingernails rake-   
Bloody rivulets trace. 

Anna crawls to her lover,   
Shrieking his name,   
Again silhouetted-   
The movements the same.   
Apart...now united-   
With movement, she grieves.   
Consones's face healed-   
He smiles, turns, and leaves. 

Club Hidalgo, 25 Years Later 

Luisa now dances-   
Her mother's fire captured.   
'Soleares,' sighs Mac-   
His face glows enraptured.   
'Her lover has left her,   
She can't live without him,'   
As Mac speaks, we sense-   
This might be about him. 

Richie pays scant attention-   
To Mac's soulful phrasing.   
His response to Mac's efforts...   
He blurts 'She's amazing!'   
'Cool it, Romeo,'   
Mac points, 'Over there-   
Is Anna, her mother,   
Behave or beware.' 

Anna leans on her cane-   
But that can't impair-   
Her imperial bearing,   
Or passionate flair,   
'Merely watching flamenco-   
Doesn't capture its essence.   
For that, you must _dance!_   
To feel its candescence.' 

She indicates Richie,   
Would he volunteer?   
He declines, 'My left feet-   
Are too numerous, I fear,'   
'Señor MacLeod?   
Would _you_ like to try?'   
'He'd love to,' grins Rich   
'C'mon, don't be shy.' 

Mac walks to Luisa,   
Accepting her lead,   
But it is soon clear-   
That he has no need-   
Of anyone's help-   
To guide, reinforce-   
The intricate movements.   
Groans Richie, 'Of course!' 

Flashback, Madrid, Spain, 1851   
A Tavern 

The temperature rises-   
As the dancers move faster.   
Flamenco's quick rhythms-   
So elusive to master-   
Now adroitly displayed-   
In powerful style,   
Duncan and partner-   
Transport and beguile. 

Theresa has come-   
To gaze, and admire,   
Every gesture of Duncan's-   
Inflames her desire,   
Her duenna is anxious,   
'We shouldn't be here-   
This is not proper,'   
'Tialita, don't fear.' 

The dancers approach-   
The summit of passion-   
Attain it.... Then cease-   
In flamenco's fashion.   
Theresa claps loudly.   
To Tialita's dismay-   
She walks toward MacLeod –   
What will her father say? 

Don Diego tells Duncan,   
'At the dance, you excel,'   
To Consone, 'Does your student-   
Do sword work as well?'   
Consone sees Theresa,   
No answer gives he,   
Only puffs his cigar-   
Belligerently. 

She gushes out praises,   
Complimenting MacLeod.   
Don Diego's displeased,   
'This is not allowed...   
You should not be here!'   
Tialita is cowering.   
'I told her, Señor,'   
Her distress, overpowering. 

Diplomatic MacLeod-   
Pretends to succumb-   
To the charms of the duenna,   
Tialita's overcome!   
She blushes, enjoying-   
This young man's baloney,   
Mac's made them all laugh-   
Except for Consone. 

He cracks a cruel barb,   
Touching Theresa's hair.   
MacLeod wastes no time,   
Takes the ladies from there.   
He escorts them both home,   
As Consone sits back,   
Not pleased by the glance-   
That Theresa gave Mac. 

Courtyard of the Del Gloria Home 

Tialita hangs back,   
Letting them talk.   
MacLeod and Theresa,   
Pause from their walk,   
Theresa is forward-   
For a woman of her station,   
Confessing to Duncan-   
Her deep adoration. 

'Even though you are foreign,   
You've my father's respect,   
Please ask for my hand.'   
'But he might object-   
He'll want you to wed-   
A noble from Spain.'   
'Please, Duncan, I love you'-   
She begs him again. 

MacLeod takes her hand,   
Carefully, 'You know not-   
What I am,' She responds-   
'I know this... we have got-   
A lifetime to learn.'   
She entreats, 'Mi amor...   
Isn't that what-   
Marriage is for?' 

They almost kiss,   
Tialita's throat clears,   
'Time to go in,'   
The duenna perseveres.   
'Talk to him, Duncan,'   
Parting with a swift kiss.   
Mac taps a last step-   
Of flamenco, with bliss. 

Present Day, Outside Club Hidalgo 

Rich assures Mac,   
His skills are still trusty,   
'Well, my zapateado-   
Was a bit rusty,'   
'I'm sorry about that,'   
Rich exudes mock concern,   
'Rich, check with Anna-   
She'll make sure you learn.' 

Gropes Rich, 'But Luisa-   
Is the dancer, I guessed.'   
'She _is_ good, but Anna....   
Rich, she was the _best._ '   
She and Rafael-   
Were flamenco's top tier.   
When he died, Anna took-   
Their daughter, moved here.' 

Ten years ago,   
Her talent was thwarted-   
By a hit-and-run driver-   
Her career was aborted.   
As Duncan recounts-   
This dire episode,   
We witness through flashback,   
Anna steps in the road. 

Flashback, Paris, 10 Years Earlier 

Anna sniffs the bouquet,   
Crimson roses, they are.   
She steps off the curb-   
Toward her, speeds a car.   
She looks up in horror-   
Then the impact! Now shattered-   
Her dreams, like the roses-   
Lie mangled and scattered. 

'She never danced-   
Again,' says MacLeod.   
But his story's cut short-   
By an argument, loud!   
Luisa is screaming,   
Her voice shrill and wild,   
'Mother! Stop treating-   
Me like a child!' 

'I'm going!' yells Luisa,   
Anna wails her protest,   
'You're ruining your gift,   
You need practice and rest!'   
'Stop living my life,   
Like you're trying to do,   
It wasn't my fault-   
Someone crippled you!' 

Enraged beyond thought,   
At this coldhearted spurning,   
Anna slaps her Luisa-   
Who turns, with face burning...   
And enters a limo-   
That leaves on command,   
But Richie and Mac-   
Feel the Buzz where they stand. 

Anna maintains her pride,   
Despite Mac's insistence-   
No...she'll go home-   
Without his assistance.   
While inside that limo,   
Nodding with sanctimony,   
Giving Luisa champagne,   
Is Otavio Consone. 

The Barge, Next Morning 

As he helps paint the barge,   
Rich reminds Duncan that-   
Being rich and Immortal-   
Doesn't make one a rat,   
'I know, but I'd feel-   
A lot safer being-   
Apprised of the man-   
That Luisa's now seeing.' 

Anna's car has pulled up,   
She blurts out her plight-   
'Luisa's not home!   
She's been gone all night!'   
MacLeod asks her in,   
Comforts her with some tea.   
Frets Anna, 'She's always-   
Confided in me.' 

'Now, she won't even-   
Tell me his name.'   
Just then MacLeod-   
And Rich sense the same-   
Buzz, from the quay,   
Mac makes a light mention,   
Something outside-   
Requires his attention. 

By his car, stands Consone,   
Plucking each petal-   
From a daisy, pretending-   
They've no score to settle,   
'Where is Luisa?'   
'Where she wants to be,   
With me, of course,'   
He derides, brazenly. 

'You hoped,' sneers Consone-   
'One day you'd become-   
A gentleman, but-   
Here you are, still a bum.   
A 'gitano,' a gypsy-   
On the river, in a dump!'   
Mac offers his challenge-   
But Consone won't jump. 

'You were clumsy, not stupid,'   
Always the bragger-   
Consone thrusts in-   
His sharp verbal dagger,   
Inside, Richie asks-   
Would Anna reveal-   
'What is duende?'   
She answers, with zeal. 

'With a true duende-   
Exhaustion's transcended.   
You no longer think,   
Conscious will is suspended.   
The spirit of the dance-   
Enters your soul.   
Time, pain...they all cease,   
The spirit has control.' 

'At that moment, the dance-   
Reaches perfection.'   
Anna's gestures describe-   
The spiritual connection.   
Rich watches in awe-   
Giving mute testimony-   
To the strength of her presence-   
Then she shrieks, 'CONSONE!!!' 

There! Through the window!   
His wicked smile flashing,   
She loses control-   
The teacup falls crashing!   
The fiend she has hated!   
Despised all these years!   
He's there with MacLeod!   
She's irate beyond tears. 

Consone tells Mac,   
'I'm not here for you...   
I'm presenting a choice,   
Pick what you will do.'   
His voice drips with venom,   
With malice, it's rife...   
'Renounce the Hidalgos-   
Or forfeit your life!' 

'CONSONE!!' screams Anna-   
As loud as she can.   
She limps off the barge-   
To confront this foul man.   
She curses him with-   
Every epithet, vile...   
Consone's unmoved,   
Continues to smile. 

Can that be Luisa?   
Getting out of his car?   
'This man killed your father!'   
Anna's pushed it too far,   
' _Look_ at him, Mother!   
It cannot be he,   
That was 25 years ago,   
Can you not see?' 

Luisa is yelling-   
That Anna is crazy.   
Anna's bewildered,   
Everything's hazy.   
Duncan tells Rich-   
'Take Anna home.'   
Consone adds, 'Therapy-   
Might help her syndrome.' 

'I'll see you soon.'   
Mac's expression is stony.   
'Wrong choice!' says an arrogant-   
Pompous Consone.   
He strolls to the car-   
Where Luisa still is,   
To flagrantly kiss her-   
Warning Mac...she is his! 

The Barge, Later 

'Mac, Anna knows-   
That he's the same guy,   
She doesn't know how-   
But her feelings don't lie.'   
Rich watches MacLeod-   
As a case he unlatches,   
Inside it-a rapier,   
With a dagger that matches. 

Flashback, Madrid, Spain, 1851 

In a large open room-   
Students practice the art-   
Of gentlemen's swordplay,   
A method apart.   
Mere skill and deftness-   
Do not make the whole.   
Consone tells Duncan,   
'The key is control.' 

The 'mysterious circle,'-   
Is drawn on the floor.   
An intricate pattern-   
For a personal war.   
The combatants must stay-   
Within its confines,   
Their movements conformed-   
To the footprints and lines. 

But Mac, as a student-   
Is reckless, impulsive.   
Consone considers-   
This rashness repulsive.   
'Whatever works,'   
Is MacLeod's attitude,   
As he slashes Consone,   
It's bloody, but crude. 

Consone makes sure-   
That MacLeod's back is turned,   
No other may witness-   
What's about to be learned.   
A dagger in the ribs-   
Is Duncan's reward,   
Now the pain is too great-   
To handle his sword. 

A wrench of the blade-   
Causes more agony,   
'Are you the master?'   
'No,' gasped miserably,   
A twist, then a yank-   
And the blade is removed.   
Consone seems pleased-   
With the 'point' he has proved. 

'You must be relentless!   
In a fight for your life-   
Would you stop just because-   
You were stabbed with a knife?'   
'No, I would not.'   
Adds Consone, enthusing-   
'The art's not just winning,   
It is also not losing.' 

'The champion is he-   
Who fights to the end,   
Till the very last stroke,   
His will doesn't bend,   
Mac's lesson is over,   
He's through for the day,   
He and Consone,   
Still friends, walk away. 

The Steamroom 

MacLeod and Consone-   
Refresh from their duels.   
Nude, but for towels-   
Covering family jewels.   
A thin sheen of sweat-   
Highlights MacLeod's bod,   
Evoking the image-   
Of a virile Greek god. 

This is the scene-   
That starts ladies drooling.   
Any man who's not jealous-   
Himself he is fooling.   
But...the story goes on-   
Despite the distraction-   
Of glistening pecs-   
And abs in contraction. 

'Your instincts are good,'   
Is Consone's advice,   
'I see you don't make-   
The same mistake twice,   
It's a pity that you-   
Are not staying here.   
I could make a real swordsman-   
Of you, in a year.' 

Mac replies that, 'Indeed-   
I am thinking of staying...   
I should propose marriage-   
Theresa is saying...   
I know it's not easy-   
For Immortals like us,   
When we don't seem to age,   
It might cause a fuss.' 

'Perhaps,' chides Consone,   
'You don't understand,   
Our customs are strict-   
There are rules in this land,   
She's not for you,   
She's born to nobility.'   
'I'm a clan chieftain's son!'   
Mac boasts with agility. 

'You are 'extranjero,'   
A foreign barbarian,   
I've talked with her father,   
It's _me_ she'll be marryin,''   
'Would you ask Theresa-   
To deny her own heart?'   
'She'll love me some day,   
Now you must depart!' 

Mac stares at Consone-   
Full in his face.   
'You're wrong...you're so wrong,   
You can't take my place.'   
'Leave Madrid!' warns Consone,   
Glaring back eye to eye,   
'Your choice! Leave tomorrow-   
Stay, and you'll die!' 

Courtyard Outside Theresa's Home, Later 

'I can't marry him!'   
Theresa's indignant.   
'You'll do what I say!'   
Daddy's tone is malignant,   
Theresa bolts out-   
Claiming she'd rather die.   
'I'll make him see reason,'   
Mac answers her cry. 

'He already has!   
His daughter's betrothed-   
To Madrid's finest gentleman,'   
'No, you are loathed!   
Never! I hate you!'   
Is Theresa's reply,   
'I warned you, MacLeod,   
Let's see how you die.' 

'Otavio!' she pleads   
'Duncan's your friend!'   
'Not any more.'   
Consone won't bend.   
If Mac doesn't fight-   
He'll be branded with shame,   
It's Consone's rules,   
And Consone's game. 

With rapier and dagger,   
That dread combination,   
They circle each other-   
With intense concentration,   
Then they engage,   
An impassioned contest,   
But Mac is hurt quickly,   
Stabbed in the chest. 

The pain is so fierce,   
Mac can't hold his sword,   
At his neck's poised the rapier-   
Consone's reward-   
Will be Duncan's head,   
If Theresa dares go,   
But she won't leave,   
She loves Duncan so. 

'Spare his life,' she entreats-   
'And I'll be your wife,'   
'No,' gasps MacLeod   
Weakly thrusts with his knife,   
But the wound is too deep,   
He can not yet rebound,   
Consone, with ease-   
Knocks Mac to the ground. 

Theresa then issues-   
Her last desperate warning,   
'Kill him, I'll be-   
In a convent by morning!'   
'Renounce him and swear-   
That you'll never see him...   
Or utter his name,   
Only then, will I free him.' 

'No,' Duncan begs,   
But she swears her sad vow.   
He looks up at her-   
From the ground, wond'ring how-   
He can live with himself,   
She has chosen heartache-   
With a man she despises-   
And all for his sake. 

Present Day, An Undisclosed Location 

Mac moves in the circle-   
Lunging and jabbing,   
Maneuvering deftly-   
Parrying, stabbing,   
Though it's been a while,   
He remembers, reliving-   
Every rhythm, nuance-   
No, there'll be no forgiving. 

He lost by those rules,   
By the same rules he'll win,   
With honor and skill-   
And precise discipline,   
Rich asks, 'Why give leverage-   
To your nemesis?'   
'Because,' Mac explains-   
It all comes back to this.' 

Anna Hidalgo's Apartment 

Reliving the past-   
The photos won't let her-   
Forget... 'I was good,   
But Luisa should be better...   
Duncan, she's everything-   
That I have left.   
If I should lose her,   
I would be bereft.' 

'You won't,' Mac assures,   
'But where can they be?   
Where does he live?   
Whom do they see?   
What of the dancers,   
In your company?'   
'They're friends, I'm their boss,   
They won't share with me.' 

'We'll have to use someone-   
That they do not know...'   
Who better than Richie-   
Self-styled Romeo?   
In the following scene,   
For the men, a diversion,   
Now the girl wears the towel-   
But alas! Euro version! 

Flamenco Dancers' Apartment 

Knock, knock! 'Who is there?'   
A gentleman charming,   
Our friend, Richard Redstone,   
His manner disarming,   
He's desperately lacking-   
Three flamenco dancers,   
Where is the third?   
These two know the answers. 

Consone's Home 

With this information-   
MacLeod has now found-   
Consone's grand house,   
But no one's around...   
Except the housekeeper,   
But her words devastate,   
'You've come for the wedding?   
But you are too late.' 

Flashback, Madrid, 1853 

Tialita is stunned,   
That MacLeod has returned,   
'Are you mad?' she exclaims,   
'If the Señor has learned-   
That you have come here-   
He will kill you!' she cries,   
'Just a word with Theresa,'   
He politely replies. 

'Impossible!' she murmurs,   
'Then a message, please take her...   
Let her know, in my heart-   
I will never forsake her,   
For these past two years-   
I've thought only of her-   
Please, let her know-   
How much I still love her.' 

The tears in his eyes-   
Show a lover, distraught,   
Such pain, thinks the duenna-   
That Consone has wrought!   
'Señor, I will take you,   
Prepare yourself well,   
MacLeod cannot guess-   
What horror befell. 

A white marble tomb,   
'She's happier now,'   
Tialita smiles sadly,   
MacLeod demands, 'How?'   
'An accident...She-   
Must have slipped on the stairs,'   
But, we see the truth,   
She was pushed, unawares. 

Consone behind her-   
In a cowardly way-   
Shoved poor Theresa,   
She was murdered, that day,   
He didn't seem sad-   
Or remorseful by far,   
Just puffed, nonchalantly-   
On his cigar. 

'The Señor was jealous,   
It was very plain-   
That Theresa still loved you,   
It drove him insane.'   
'Where is he?' snarls Mac,   
'Her death I'll avenge!'   
'No!' moans Tialita,   
'Don't try for revenge!' 

'She rests now in peace,   
Content you weren't slain,   
If you die now,   
Her death was in vain...   
Please...ride away-   
For her sake alone,'   
Mac kneels, fighting tears-   
With his head on her stone. 

Present Day, Back at Consone's Home 

'You are too late,'   
The housekeeper is saying,   
No...not again...   
Thinks Duncan, dismaying,   
Luisa must not-   
Be forced to endure-   
A fate like Theresa's,   
Of that...he'll make sure. 

Club Hidalgo 

Anna flicks on some lights-   
To lessen the gloom,   
But there...in the spotlight...   
A figure of doom!   
Consone! That demon!   
Her worst nightmare...HERE!   
Puffing on his cigar,   
Taking joy in her fear. 

Smugly, he questions-   
'Do you still have much pain?   
Nineteen eighty six,   
The Rue de Madeleine....   
You wore a red coat...   
Tried to sidestep your fate,   
Couldn't move fast enough,   
Yes, you were too late.' 

'NO!' she cries out,   
With shocked realization.   
He: 'How is your dancing?'   
She screams in frustration.   
Raising her cane,   
She attacks with a roar!   
But, he grabs her arm,   
Sending her to the floor. 

'Is that any way...   
(As he rubs her wound raw),   
To treat the man who-   
Is your new son-in-law?'   
'No, it's impossible!'   
'A pity,' he sighs,   
'Such a beautiful bride,   
She'll be young when she dies.' 

She: 'Kill me instead,   
That way you've repaid me.'   
He: 'She is the spawn-   
Of the two, that betrayed me...   
I told you...Rafael-   
Was the first cut, my sweet,   
You...Anna? I killed you-   
That day on the street!' 

We view him that day-   
With a smile, so content,   
As the roses she carried-   
Lie strewn on cement,   
Now watching him walk-   
Up the stairs to the door,   
In torment she cries-   
Pitifully from the floor. 

Consone's Home 

Luisa's come alone,   
Duncan waited to say-   
'Gather your things,   
You're going away,'   
When she refuses,   
He pulls her aside,   
'He was married before,   
And he murdered his bride.' 

'You're as crazy as Mother,   
Making up charges, phony,   
Before Mac can argue-   
He senses Consone,   
Quickly he pushes-   
Luisa inside...   
Away from Consone's-   
Pathological pride. 

Mac stands on the steps,   
Will not treat him gently,   
Inside sits Luisa,   
Observing intently,   
Consone approaches-   
With malevolence brimmin'   
'Highlander, you're always-   
Sniffing 'round my women.' 

Mac counters, 'Theresa-   
Never was yours.   
She did not speak my name,   
In your corridors.   
But when you were near-   
Her thoughts were of me.   
That's why you killed her-   
Only for jealousy.' 

'Young women fade quickly,'   
He's enjoying Mac's hate,   
'Yes, I killed Theresa,'   
He continues to bait,   
Unseen, sobs Luisa,   
Overwhelmed by this tale,   
With tears in her eyes,   
At Consone's betrayal. 

'And what of the latest-   
Of my lovely brides?'   
Mac: 'I sent her home-   
To her mother, besides-   
No woman would stay-   
If she knew what you are,'   
Says Consone, 'She can run-   
But she cannot get far.' 

'I will find her... if married-   
Her husband, I'll slaughter,   
If they have a girl,   
I'll seduce the young daughter,'   
Enough! Now Luisa-   
Runs screaming past Mac,   
Consone just smiles-   
As MacLeod holds her back. 

Consone warns Mac,   
'If she runs, she'll be caught,   
Your fine noble sacrifice-   
Will be for naught!'   
Mac glares at Consone,   
With a stare cold as ice,   
'Who said anything-   
About sacrifice?' 

Consone's 'Mysterious Circle' 

Luisa has gone,   
There remains just the two,   
'Bravo, extranjero!'   
Duncan nods, 'After you,'   
It all comes to this,   
In this Game they must play,   
One will be dead-   
At the end of the day. 

They enter the circle-   
With their rapiers-salute,   
Their commitment to battle-   
Is now absolute,   
Within the confines-   
Of the circle, one must-   
Vanquish the foe,   
With parry and thrust. 

And so, it begins...   
Two swordsmen converging.   
Control must be balanced-   
With hatred emerging.   
Clouds block the sun,   
They're pelted with rain,   
Bodies grow tired.   
Yet, they maintain. 

Neither can stop,   
So consumed by the fight-   
They barely take notice-   
When day becomes night.   
Soaked and exhausted,   
All reserves nearly gone.   
Hours roll by-   
Still they fight on. 

The Highlander scores-   
A small victory.   
In spite of Consone's-   
Sword mastery-   
He is the first-   
To lose his composure-   
When he steps out-   
Of the circle's enclosure. 

But, by this Scot-   
He will not be outdone!   
'You were born a pig farmer,   
Now you'll die like one!'   
A few more sword strokes,   
Then his rapier aims true,   
Penetrates Duncan's heart,   
Is the Highlander through? 

But...in that instant-   
Scarcely a blinking-   
MacLeod grabs the hilt-   
Without even thinking,   
He jams the sword inward-   
To its hilt...now completely-   
Impaled...Then Consone's-   
Aghast, disarmed neatly. 

Mac holds the two daggers,   
Now forming a shears-   
At Consone's neck.   
Weariness disappears,   
With a last surge of strength-   
From some hidden well,   
Mac snips off his head-   
And consigns him to Hell. 

Consone's death grip-   
From Mac's chest, the sword frees,   
All strength leaves his body,   
He sinks to his knees-   
In a blazing rectangle-   
Flames cascade and soar-   
As the power of the Quickening-   
Revives him once more. 

Anna's Apartment 

Anna and Luisa-   
Sit silent, intense.   
A knock on the door,   
An end to suspense...   
It's Duncan, with news-   
The threat has been ended,   
Luisa's a widow,   
Their lives can be mended. 

'How?' asks Luisa...   
Anna shushes her, 'No-   
We won't inquire further,'   
MacLeod turns to go,   
Anna kisses his hand,   
She and Luisa embrace,   
Mac gives one last glance,   
Rueful smile on his face. 

Does he mourn, as he sees-   
Anna clasping Luisa...   
The way that he failed-   
His beloved Theresa?   
This time he made sure-   
That Consone did pay.   
Never again-   
On a woman, he'll prey. 

The Barge 

An admiring Richie...   
'So you beat the master-   
At his own game?'   
His awe can't be vaster.   
Mac explains, 'To Consone-   
Mastery meant control,   
Learning moves and technique-   
That was his only goal.' 

'There's a place in the dance,   
Where your mind goes away,   
You do things, your body-   
Never learned to display,   
You'll be where your mind's-   
No longer discerning....'   
'Duende,' says Rich,   
'See, Mac?' I'm learning. 

Peace, Emit   
© 2002 

**_Under the Kilt_ from Highlander: The Official Site: **

David Abramowitz, Creative Consultant   
'Richard Martin did a great job.' 

**Don Paonessa, Creative Consultant, Post Production**   
'The thing for Post was that Richard Martin got hooped when he was doing the fight. It started during the day, they had to break because of the rain, and then they picked it up in the evening. So our big thing was to create the transition from day to night... color-timing and making this fight appear to be going on that long. The other big thing that Post did was that we put a lot of rain in the show. When you're on one side of the shot and it's back-lit, you saw all the rain, and if it wasn't back-lit, you couldn't. Also there were times they were fighting and there wasn't rain, so we added rain. It was a Post Production triumph. Also, Richard shot with a chocolate filter on some of the flashbacks, we had to print the flashback material so it had a look to it.' 

**Ken Gord, Producer**   
'Now we're starting to round out my top five and it's becoming more like a top ten. Braun, Adrian and Anthony De Longis did a great job with the fight at the end. The Quickening is huge. And I knew the Quickening was going to be fantastic because the French Special Effects guy, whose name was Pierre, when you explained to him what you wanted, if he said, 'Yes, sure, no problem,' then I knew it was not going to be that great. But when he looked down and looked really, really worried, I knew that it was going to be spectacular. And he looked really worried about that one. And it was brilliant. Also, Adrian studied flamenco dancing and he practiced for months.' 

~ Stone of Scone   
  
---


End file.
